On Thursday evenings, I take my cello and bow to the neighborhood ukulele group sing-along. I’ve only recently joined this group, since retiring from being a professional music teacher/performer because I thought it would do me good socially. My problem is that I’ve been finding it incredibly difficult to enjoy myself amongst a group of amateur musicians where I am not the teacher. On top of this I’m usually sleep deprived due to health issues so I hate to think of the negative energy emanating from me and the emotional contagion that I am instigating when people look at me sitting there bored or trying to hide my annoyance at the out of tune cacophony. We have a family joke created by my husband, who has always found humility a challenge, and who one day blurted out the humorous phrase, “It’s hard to be humble, given my strengths.”! This is exactly how I truly feel because my level of musicianship is way above anyone else’s in the group and on top of that I’m grieving the loss of my ability to play the cello at a level that I could do in just the last year or so. Pride is the number one sin and in joining this group, I’ve been given a huge challenge. I welcome any advice because tonight is ukelele group!
Ps. The group doesn’t sound as bad as I make it out to be or I wouldn’t have lasted more than one rehearsal. 😄And they’re all quite happy to have me as a cellist playing the melody or a harmony.
I love this, Suzanne. You (and your husband's comment) made me laugh. In fact, I'm trying to remember to laugh at my own humbling experiences. From the a different perspective, they are rather funny.
Great observations which I shared excerpts of with my family, and told them I do much repenting. ( I do wish the "Karen" could be left it...it is hard not to feel slapped by it when your name is Karen...)
Love this close observation of everyday moral life. I feel annoyed with myself in these these everyday mis-cues, especially at my felt urge to speak to a misbehaver as Google speaks to me when my search terms have a typo: "Did you mean: I want to check my phone notifications but NOT in the middle of the bike path down which you are at this very moment hurdling."
That was amazing Elizabeth, I'd say I mostly do the pre judging when I see little kids at restaurants, I just think, oh here we go, I especially don't like the screaming, I have Cerebral Palsy, so I jump/startle easily, so it's always a nice surprise when kids aren't running around and are actually good.
I grew up in Kenya. My aunt adopted a Kenyan orphan. I am ashamed at my racist reactions that happen 60 years later in moments when I encounter 'another'. Some years ago I was reminded of my own humiliations growing up in Africa. An understanding that should not be an excuse. The first stanza is an acrostic (I say that because most people have not seen it or hear it when I have shared the poem.)
Do lizards forget?
In memory of my cousin Eve adopted in Kenya
An Almond on either side
Making memories with feeling
You never know when the
Gecko is going to suddenly spring into action
Darting across the floor
Activating adrenaline
Loosing fear and anger and turning
An-other into The Other
I was listening to a friendly voice
As I heard:” I have two languages, English and Punjabi”
Her voice became brown in that moment
Shame arrived carried by tears
I am not a racist
Time shaft-lit by memories
Coruscating with humiliation
Sharp with being The Other
I was that boy with nobody at my birthday party.
“It is not a Kenyan Indian custom.”
It was me being chased by a flock of geese
while my African friends and their parents laughed.
I was the “bastard teacher's pet"
someone took the trouble to carve in a school desk.
Eve, there are no scales that could balance these humiliations
Nice weather! Then there is British class hyper-vigilance. Can't help it? I would go as far as Browning, 'Pippa Passes' if I could in all grace. Some can, how? btw. thanks to LTC Rolt et al for canals still being there; the efforts of history we float on.
On Thursday evenings, I take my cello and bow to the neighborhood ukulele group sing-along. I’ve only recently joined this group, since retiring from being a professional music teacher/performer because I thought it would do me good socially. My problem is that I’ve been finding it incredibly difficult to enjoy myself amongst a group of amateur musicians where I am not the teacher. On top of this I’m usually sleep deprived due to health issues so I hate to think of the negative energy emanating from me and the emotional contagion that I am instigating when people look at me sitting there bored or trying to hide my annoyance at the out of tune cacophony. We have a family joke created by my husband, who has always found humility a challenge, and who one day blurted out the humorous phrase, “It’s hard to be humble, given my strengths.”! This is exactly how I truly feel because my level of musicianship is way above anyone else’s in the group and on top of that I’m grieving the loss of my ability to play the cello at a level that I could do in just the last year or so. Pride is the number one sin and in joining this group, I’ve been given a huge challenge. I welcome any advice because tonight is ukelele group!
Ps. The group doesn’t sound as bad as I make it out to be or I wouldn’t have lasted more than one rehearsal. 😄And they’re all quite happy to have me as a cellist playing the melody or a harmony.
I love this, Suzanne. You (and your husband's comment) made me laugh. In fact, I'm trying to remember to laugh at my own humbling experiences. From the a different perspective, they are rather funny.
Great observations which I shared excerpts of with my family, and told them I do much repenting. ( I do wish the "Karen" could be left it...it is hard not to feel slapped by it when your name is Karen...)
I bet it does. I’m sorry for reinforcing
Love this close observation of everyday moral life. I feel annoyed with myself in these these everyday mis-cues, especially at my felt urge to speak to a misbehaver as Google speaks to me when my search terms have a typo: "Did you mean: I want to check my phone notifications but NOT in the middle of the bike path down which you are at this very moment hurdling."
That was amazing Elizabeth, I'd say I mostly do the pre judging when I see little kids at restaurants, I just think, oh here we go, I especially don't like the screaming, I have Cerebral Palsy, so I jump/startle easily, so it's always a nice surprise when kids aren't running around and are actually good.
I grew up in Kenya. My aunt adopted a Kenyan orphan. I am ashamed at my racist reactions that happen 60 years later in moments when I encounter 'another'. Some years ago I was reminded of my own humiliations growing up in Africa. An understanding that should not be an excuse. The first stanza is an acrostic (I say that because most people have not seen it or hear it when I have shared the poem.)
Do lizards forget?
In memory of my cousin Eve adopted in Kenya
An Almond on either side
Making memories with feeling
You never know when the
Gecko is going to suddenly spring into action
Darting across the floor
Activating adrenaline
Loosing fear and anger and turning
An-other into The Other
I was listening to a friendly voice
As I heard:” I have two languages, English and Punjabi”
Her voice became brown in that moment
Shame arrived carried by tears
I am not a racist
Time shaft-lit by memories
Coruscating with humiliation
Sharp with being The Other
I was that boy with nobody at my birthday party.
“It is not a Kenyan Indian custom.”
It was me being chased by a flock of geese
while my African friends and their parents laughed.
I was the “bastard teacher's pet"
someone took the trouble to carve in a school desk.
Eve, there are no scales that could balance these humiliations
Against the doors slammed in your face.
Nice weather! Then there is British class hyper-vigilance. Can't help it? I would go as far as Browning, 'Pippa Passes' if I could in all grace. Some can, how? btw. thanks to LTC Rolt et al for canals still being there; the efforts of history we float on.